Collision of Worlds
by StarGazingAtMidnight
Summary: There's the human world, and it's safe, mostly. Then there's THEIR world. A world where the monsters under your bed are real. There's a war going on all around you, all the time, and humans don't notice. Because magic doesn't exist, right? Then again, neither do aliens, and Earth seems to have a slight problem with them. Handler!Fic! M due to paranoia, more detail inside. Sam/Prime
1. Chapter 1

**New story! **

**For all my regular readers, there's a note for you at the bottom!**

**For everyone else...Hello! Welcome to the mad mind of StarGazingAtMidnight (Star)! I'm really happy you decided to give my story a go! Hope you enjoy!**

**Now, before we get onto the first chapter, quick note. This is basically set in the 'The Mortal Instruments' world, only with no Shadowhunters ( :( ) and faeries (Not the sparkly kind!) taking their place as protectors of men. If you have never read 'TMI' before,**

**A) ****don't worry, there will be a small note at the bottom to explain and it's really easy to pick up! and**

**B) You should read the series, because it is amazing :)**

**Now, on with the chapter!**

* * *

The line outside _Blue Moon_ curled around the block, each young life desperately trying to get in the hottest club in town. Strips of cloth that could barely be called clothing hung off each of the club-goers, each ignorant to night's chill. The queue jostled back and forth, excited whispers filling the air. The bouncer looked him up and down, taking in the dark clothing, neatly styled hair and dull blue eyes. He patted him down, letting him past when he felt no weapons, unknowing that his weapons were hidden in his teeth. He slipped onto the main dance floor and inhaled deeply, revelling in the smell of young, excited teenagers. He grinned, and for a moment, the girl next to him saw a glimpse of pointed, razor-sharp fangs, before they quickly disappeared, and the demon started his hunt.

Outside, in the air that threatened snow, the queue still waited. One pair of amber eyes glanced back, then widened in surprise. Gripping her friend's arm tightly, she chattered into her ear. Dark eyes widened, and then passed on the message. Heads turned around quickly, the chattering increasing ten-fold. For a moment, there was nothing. No sound, no movement.

Then, as if melting out of the shadows, three figures appeared. They moved forward with confident grace, their feet not making a sound against the icy pavement.

She flanked left, hair as dark as midnight curling to her shoulders, clad in a heart-stopping short black dress with long black boots that stretched up to her knees. Dark eyes were heavily outlined, thick lashes curling upwards. A black choker circled her throat, set off by a single white gemstone in the middle.

He flanked right, blonde hair carefully styled into small spikes, dark denim jeans with a stretch green shirt, and a tan, sharp-cut leather jacket to ward off the nights chill over the top. Bright blue eyes raked over the crowd, smirking at some of the blushes he gained. He murmured something to the girl, who flicked her hair backwards and let out a soft laugh, like trailing bells.

He took point. Messy copper hair that just begged to have fingers ran through it fell into molten chocolate eyes which, if one looked closely enough, appeared to have small flecks of gold dotted around the iris. Jet-black jeans with a gleaming white shirt, and like the blonde, he had a leather jacket thrown over the top to ward off the chill, this one as dark as the shadows they had appeared out of. A thin black cord circled his neck, the pendent lost under the shirt.

Together the three moved forward, bypassing the line. Barely a few meters away from the large bouncer, the leader's walk slowed to an almost saunter, hips swaying _just_ a tad. The bouncer ranked his eyes up and down, clearly enjoying the show the teen was putting on as he stepped close, slowly trailing a finger up the elder's chest. Thin, but strong arms encircled the bouncer's neck, the teen's lips moving to the bouncer's ear. After a few moments, the bouncer nodded and stepped aside, allowing the three access to the club.

For the first hour, they played their part perfectly. Drank a few drinks, danced a few dances, looking the picture of three teens wanting a night of fun. Then, in the middle of one of the dances, their moment struck.

He hooked his fingers through the belt loops at the back of his jeans, pulling the teen back, his chest to the white-shirt clad back. The copper head fell back against his shoulder, arms winding around his neck as they ground against each other, bodies moving as one. He pressed sloppy kisses against his neck, rocking his hips forward. The venom burning in his mouth started a familiar fire to burn through his veins, causing the contacts in his eyes to dissolve, turning the dull blue into vivid red.  
Suddenly, his prey stepped away and his hunter almost snarled at the loss, only for his lips to curl into a satisfied smirk when his prey reached back and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the weaving dancers.

They slipped out the fire exit, into the alleyway outside the club, the cold night air hitting like a slap. He immediately pinned his prey against the wall, ripping off his jacket. His lips trailed across his prey's neck again, almost moaning at the sounds the other was making and the taste of the pulse point he started to suck on. He drew back, his incisors growing and sharpening into two razor points, bloodlust making his mind hazy. He moved forward, about to sink his fangs into the graceful curve of the neck presented to him, only to pause. Slowly, small, faint silver marks were beginning to appear on his prey's neck. Shaking his head, he leaned closer; about to bite when,  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."  
The breathy, irregular moans were gone, replaced by an even, if not slightly smug tone. Before the vampire could react, the teen spun and grabbed the vampire by the throat, swinging him around and throwing him hard against the wall. The vampire crumpled to the ground, looking up at the teen in surprise.

With each step the teen took, he seemed to shimmer as the glamour he had cast over himself started to lift. His golden tan started to shimmer, as if he has been injected with sunlight. The gold in his eyes started to swirl, faster and faster until his entire irises were solid gold. Faint silver marks that looked like ancient Celtic runes appeared on his skin, a few strong silver ones swirling across his cheekbones and the back of his hands. Finally, a pair of shimmering silver feathered wings unfolded from the back of his shirt.  
The vampire shook his head in shock, muttering something under his breath in Latin.  
"Impossible. Your kind is a mere myth"  
The teen smiled, white, bright, and deadly. "According to the Sightless, so are the Children of Night, the Moon and Hecate. If you stalk the mortals, why should it be so hard to imagine that we stalk you?"

The vampire gave a shriek and lunged forward, tackling the redhead around the waist. They hit the ground together, punching and biting, desperate to gain the upper hand. The vampire's nails sharpened into claws and he swiped, tearing the shirt and the smooth skin under. The redhead gave a sharp cry, losing his balance and allowing the vampire the opportunity to roll the teen under him. Drawing his arm up, he went to slice downwards, to slice the teen's throat, only to scream in agony as what felt like burning hot liquid poured over his hand. Hands grabbed the back of his jacket and forcefully pulled him off the teen, throwing him against the wall again. Once again, he crumpled to the ground, holding his smoking hand as the agony of holy water spasmed through him. The blonde glared at him, bronze wings fluttering in agitation at the sight of the vampire. He glanced down at the red-head and offered his hand, silver irises gleaming lightly.

"Need a hand?"

The red-head accepted, wincing slightly as he was pulled to his feet.

"Thanks, Miles."

He touched the tattered edge of his shirt, his fingertips coming away stained gold. Eyes narrowed, he spun to glare at the vampire, holding his fingers up like evidence to a horrific crime.

"Do you see this?! This was my favourite shirt, man! Do you have _any_ idea how hard it is to get ichor out of clothes?"

The girl slipped the empty vial of Holy Water back into the front of her dress. Mikaela rolled her eyes, pulling what looked like a long, thin stick made of clear crystal out of her left boot, metallic green wings moving gently as she moved over to the annoyed teen. Pulling up the ruins of his shirt, she traced a healing rune on his skin, tutting loudly.

"Honestly, Sam. Can't you go more than a week without bleeding?!"

The teen flashed her a crooked grin, then turned back to the vampire who was watching them with shocked eyes, the humour from his own quickly draining. He strode over and grabbed the vampire by the shoulders, dragging him up and slamming against the wall.

"Hello. Time for some introductions, don't you think? This is Mikaela, daughter of Maria, the Healer and the Seer. That is Miles, son of Jason and the Warrior. And I am Samuel, heir to the throne of Ronald and the Hunter. We are here to bring the innocent you murdered to justice."

The vampire was shaking his head, eyes wide. "Impossible. You-you don't exist. You're kind, the Faeries, they don't exist. They're stories told to rebellious fledglings, the myth that if they step out of line and feed on unwilling victims, if they drain their victim dry, that the faerie council will step in and make them 'disappear'. But, that's all you are! Nightmares!"

Miles smiled, dark and predatory. "Aren't vampires just meant to be the monsters that hide under the bed?"

The vampire didn't speak, mouth moving open and shut soundlessly.

Mikaela stepped forward, closer to the demon with disgusted violet irises. She held up a thin black cord with a small silver disk attached, on which the words 'Fures iuventutis' was imprinted.

"Do you recognise this?"

Unwillingly, the vampire's eyes darted down to his wrist and back again, but not fast enough to escape Miles's notice. He grabbed his left arm and pulled it up, displaying his empty wrist.

"When a vampire enters a coven, he is given a bracelet with the coven's name imprinted on it. Every vampire has a coven, either by creating one or by joining one. You, do not have one."

"Lost it." The vampire replied, trying to remain offhand, but unable to keep the slight shake from his voice.

"Yes. Yes you did." Suddenly, Sam's gold irises were burning, searing the vampire. "You lost it in a park three days ago. You lost it when you attacked a faerie child and drained her dry, ignoring her screams and struggles. '_Thieves of the youth'_, your coven calls themselves, a name held from the Dark Days, where they fed off children, something they have not done since the New Age. However, you held true to your name, and stole the life of a youth. But she was smart, even as a child. She pulled off your bracelet and held it in her hand, so when we found her body, _when we uncurled her cold fingers, we found the link to her murderer."_

All three teens were trembling with fury, energy pouring off them. The vampire stared, then dropped the 'terrified' act and smirked.

"You cannot prove it was me. I could have lost it anytime, anywhere. It could be from someone else in the coven. You have _nothing."_

Then Miles smirked, cold and cruel. "We talked to your sire, _Marcus_. And he turned you over."

Marcus shook his head rapidly, trying to struggle against Sam's tight hold. Suddenly, a razor-thin and deathly sharp stake was pointed directly at his un-beating heart.

"Move and I'll strike." The threat made the vampire freeze.

"One more question, before we send you to the flames you fear so desperately," Miles snarled, moving a step closer.

"Over the last three months, the amount of vampires turned, werewolves bit and warlocks located has skyrocketed. Why?"

The vampire stared for a moment, and then he snarled, lips curling into a cold smile, fangs extended and dripping with venom and eyes turning completely black. The three faeries had a sudden urge to leap backwards from the snarling vampire. While Higher-Demons did sometimes possess the Sightless, they rarely took control of another demon. The vampire opened his mouth, and his voice was no longer like velvet, it was deep and harsh, like rough stones rubbing against each other.

"They are coming. We are coming, and this word will burn and we shall feed on the worthless."

Sam's eyes froze once more. "Not today."

Then, with one sharp movement, he plunged the stake downwards, straight into the demon's heart. The creature gave a howl of agony, clawing at his chest as blue flames exploded out from his heart, dancing across his skin. In a handful of seconds, with the scream still hanging in the air, all that was left of the demon was a small pile of smoking fine ash.

Sam glanced down at the stake, nose wrinkling at the toxic black demon blood congealing on the tip. He slipped it back into the heel of his shoe, dusting his hands off.

"Well...that was weird."

The Hunter glanced back at the blonde, who hadn't lifted his gaze from the ash, and nodded with him. He shivered slightly.

"Supernatural activity is sky-high, The Children of the Night are breaking The Pact, and Higher-Demons are possessing the lowers. Something's changing."

Miles finally lifted his gaze and met Sam's eyes, waiting for his reply. The teen glanced up at the waning moon and shivered again. Something was in the air...something that had been building for months. He met Miles's eyes again, and nodded.

"Something's coming."

"They are coming."

Sam and Miles froze. They recognised the voice, the airy, musical voice that only appeared very rarely. That only appeared when a Seer had Seen. Slowly, they turned to gaze at Mikaela. Her soft violet irises were glowing brightly and what looked like stars were bursting inside them. Carefully, Miles moved over and gently guided her to her knees; the shock of coming out of a trance almost always caused the clairvoyant to pass-out. Sam knelt in front of her and placed his hands on either side of his best friend's face.

"What do you see, 'Kaela?" He soothed, careful not to startle her. "Tell me."

"They are coming." Her eyes were wide and blank, seeing things only she could see and would almost immediately forget. "Angels and Demons."

Sam's gaze snapped to Miles, who looked back with equal fear. Demons, true demons, were big, dangerous and almost unstoppably powerful. They could not be killed, only banished back to the space between worlds where they restlessly waited. But Angels? They were much more terrifying. They were cold, almost cruel. They had charged the fey-folk with guarding the mortals, the humans from vampires, werewolves and warlocks who threatened them harm, but offered no help themselves. A Demon didn't even hold _half_ an Angel's power, but unlike the Angels, Demons were more than happy to use their power. If an Angel wished to sweep vengeance across the world, they didn't have a chance.

Sam pushed down the panic screaming in his head. He couldn't panic. He was the Hunter, the leader. He _had_ to stay calm. Exhaling shakily, he forced his tone to be even.

"What sort of Angels and Demons, 'Kaela?" He murmured, noting her subtle shaking with worried eyes. '_For the love of all that is holy, not Asmodeus or Rapael'_

_"_Angels and Demons, made of flesh and metal."

"..._what?!"_

_"_They are nothing this world has seen. Metal and flesh, flesh and metal. Two are one and one is two. One cannot be without the other. They are coming, and they will either save our world, or burn it and dance among the ashes. They will come.

The Hunter.

The Warrior.

The Scout.

The Saboteur.

The Healer.

They will come, and our lives will _never_ be the same again."

Then the clairvoyant's eyes rolled back into her head and she pitched backwards, only to be caught by Miles's strong arms. He quickly swept her into his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder as he stood. Sam still stared at the space she had knelt, and after a few seconds he shook his head and also climbed to his feet. Sam's eyes met Miles's, confusion and fear swirling in their metallic irises.

"Come on. We have to take this to the council."

Miles nodded silently, then muttered a few words under his breath, and almost immediately he, Mikaela and Sam were three ordinary teenagers once more, looking as if they had just had a exhilarating night out. They disappeared down the mouth of the alleyway, determined to return home as quickly as possible, the night's revelations still spinning in their minds.

Thus, they did not see the small pile of ashes shimmer and shake, then surge upwards, forming a basic humanoid shape. The creature looked like it was made of ash, smoke curling from its jagged mouth that was bristling with teeth. The blurry shapes that could be called fingers suddenly grew long, razor-sharp talons, and wings, dripping with blood and ichor and looked as if they were made from darkness itself, burst from its back. Its two empty black eye-sockets gazed up to the waning moon and it let loose one horrific, blood curdling scream of victory.

And they also missed a bright light flash across the sky. Vampires, Werewolves and Warlocks took no note of the single streak, and the faeries looked on with vague interest. Sightless told their children a star had fallen.

But, unknown to all, something else had fallen. Something, not minutes earlier, a gifted clairvoyant had Seen. And out of the ashes that was the 'star's' crater, came a slim blonde male, in his late teens. Strange shapes swirled across his body in a language that had never been seen on this planet before. And, also in tie with the clairvoyant's vision, an extremely tall metal humanoid stepped out after him.

Two are one. One is two.

An Angel made of Metal and Flesh.

_They are coming._

The Cybertronian War on Earth had only just begun.

* * *

**Whew! Now, background info first!**

**Basically, the world is split in two. The ordinary, human side, and the dangerous, Magickal side. When the world was first created, it was filled not only with humans and animals, but also with Angels and Demons. A huge war followed, which ended with the Angels banishing the Demons to the space between worlds, where they wait. For a few thousand years, this was all okay, until the Angels realised that a few small Demons were slipping through the wall between the worlds via small cracks which occurred where a large Angel Vs. Demon battle had taken place, and would continue to do so if the Angels stayed. These demons infected a few humans, turning them into Children of the Night (Vampires), the Moon (Werewolves) and Hecate (Warlocks). In an attempt to help keep the humans safe, the Angels returned to the heavens and created the Fey-Folk, beings that were half-human, but with Angel blood running through their veins. They also put up a sort of glamour, which would turn the humans 'sightless' to all things ****Magickal. **

**Then, the Cybertronians showed up. Unlike with the movies, they are two half's of one being. One half is the '****handler**', small and organic, and the other half is the 'mech/femme', large and metallic. They are one being, they share a spark, a soul. Two are one.  


**NOTE TO MY READERS**

**Darkness Rising- I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU! ATM, I have no DR muse, mainly due to Mark of Athena (WHY RICK WHY?!) and all the Percabeth, but I WILL UPDATE ONCE MY MUSE POPS BACK!**

**At War For Peace- Guys...I've lost my muse.. WAIT! WAIT! FOR THE LOVE OF PRIMUS, DROP THE CROWBAR AND LET ME FINISH! *looks pointedly at certain readers*...ahem. now then. I have lost my muse, (WAIT!) due to THIS story! This chap especially has been sucking my muse, so now that it's up, I am almost certain that my muse will bounce back! Also, these two trans fics will be updated time about**

**More to come!**

**Star**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't have a lot of time, so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!**

**I don't own, sorry this was so late now enjoy1**

***speeds off to help wrap prezzies***

* * *

"And then Rapael decreed- "  
The teacher cut off, orange eyes landing on the empty chair at the back of the room. Large, blue feathered wings fluttered irritably.  
"Where's Witwicky?"  
The other faeries kept their eyes on their desks, trying to hide their smirks. None would sell the faeire out.  
"Where's the prince?!"

* * *

He sat halfway up a tree by the lake, crossed legged and relaxed. His eyes were lightly shut, pale lids with long, sweeping lashes dusting his cheeks. His glamour was gone, allowing his bronze wings to flutter contentedly, gleaming in the sunlight. The swirling silver patterns that decorated his cheekbones, forehead and bared forearms shone lightly where the sun hit them.  
Breathe in. Breathe out.  
Light sparked in the palm in his hand.  
Breathe in. Breathe out.  
He placed on hand above it and pulled lightly, causing the light to flicker and grow larger, until roughly the size of a football. His eyes slowly opened and gold irises seemed to dance. A small smile played on his lips as he started to manipulate the light, flaring it blue then gold. Twirling his fingers, the ball started spinning, forming different shapes and pulling a soft laugh from the prince. He continued to play with the light for a few minutes, until a soft shiver ran down his back. The light vanished as he glanced down and found a familiar curly haired man looking up at him. The faerie sighed and stood up, and then dropped from the branch soundlessly, landing lightly on bare feet. He slowly sank down on one knee; head bowed gently, sunlight flashing off the elegant silver circlet sitting on his hair.  
"Father."  
The man placed a hand on his shoulder, his own, more elaborate, circlet also flashing.  
"Rise."  
Sam stood slowly, looking into his father's eyes. The faerie in front of him looked no more than thirty, until you saw his eyes. The gold irises, the exact same colour as Sam's, were old, timeless. Immortal.  
Ronald tilted his head slightly, eyes sweeping over his son curiously.  
"Walk with me. "

They begun the circle of the lake slowly, neither of them speaking. As Sam looked over at the shimmering lake, his father looked over at him through the corner of his eyes.  
"Why weren't you in classification this morning?"

An almost snarl crawled across his son's face, making him look shockingly feral. "I cannot stand that racist, ego filled pompous tutor."

Ron's eyebrow rose, surprised at this uncharacteristic distaste. His son generally tried to treat all life forms, no matter how much he had tried to discourage it, equally.  
"In what way is he racist?"  
Sam's eyes flashed as he met his father's gaze fearlessly.  
"He is convinced that the Fey are superior to all species. He makes in abundantly clear how the humans are defenceless and should be thanking us on their knees for our protection. He also makes it clear it his wording that Vampires and Werewolves are 'diseased' and should be 'put down' for their own good. On top of that, he thinks Warlocks should be hunted as demons are. He defines people by their species and parentage, dehumanizes them so they are mere animals!"  
Sam's wings fluttered so hard in sheer agitation, he levitated a few centimetres, toes brushing the tips of the grass. His irises flared brightly and his jaw was clenched.  
Ronald stared at him for a moment, and then bestowed a rare smile  
"You look so much like your mother."  
Sam started, automatically brushing a hand against the pendant around his neck.  
"She was the same. She was determined to have widespread equality for all the Other World's children."  
"She had the right idea."  
"Maybe. But you can't fix the wrongs of this world on your own."  
"Well, no-one in there is going to help. "  
There was silence for a few moments, then,  
"You agree with then, don't you?"  
"...They may have a point"  
Sam rocked back, mouth falling open. "How can you say that? You're the king, if you show any sort of distaste to the other-"  
"They are not 'other' to us, Samuel." Ron's voice was firm. "They have to ichor of demons, us is of Angel"  
"And what of their humanity?! We were chosen to protect humans-"  
"All they do us put the humans at more risk-"  
"Folly! This has nothing to do with that! You just want an excuse since the uprising-"  
"How dare you-"  
"Because of mother-"  
"Silence!"  
His father glared at him, disapproval clear in his eyes.  
"You are my heir, Samuel. When I fall, you will take my place. You come from a line of strong kings, but one weak link can destroy that lineage. We are blessed by the Angel, and they are cursed by the Demons. They are a tumour, they take and take and take and expect us to protect them. You have seen the destruction they can cause."

* * *

_The city had been beautiful. The capital city of their homeland had been, to them, simply perfect. Buildings of every era meshing together in perfect harmony, cobbled streets and mosaics that were danced across during festivals, and an endless azure sky. Large buildings that resembled cathedrals with tall crystal spires that had pierced the sky had been dotted across the city, holding up the wards that kept the demons out. Atlanta (Mother City of the 'lost city' of Atlantis) had been their home and always would be.  
Then the Demons came._

_The wards had fallen and they swarmed through the city, butchering anything that moved. Vampires, Werewolves, Warlocks and even some Pure Demons that had been summoned razed the City. Males and females, old and young, all of them were slaughtered if they didn't move fast enough. The city had __**burned**__._

_Sam had still been a child, less than 110, when they had stormed the castle. His mother had hidden him in the cupboard and stood defensively in front of it, desperately calling for Ron through their soul bond, calling him back from the front line. He had sprinted away from the battle, half-running-half-flying._  
_He was too late._  
_He had found Sam hiding in the cupboard, curled up with hands pressed over his ears and tears pouring down his cheeks, terrified but unharmed._  
_And his beautiful bonded's broken body stretched out in front of it, fiery hair matted and eyes gazing blankly._  
_He had stepped over her, scooped Sam into his arms and ran, dodging demons as they lunged at the faerie heirs. His Magick, unstable and dark from his grief, exploded outward, turning anything dark to ash. He ran towards the only Portal remaining open, his guards covering his back as he leapt through it, curling around his son as he hit the ground and rolled. The portal stayed open just long enough for the two guards to leap through and, for a moment that seemed to stretch forever, to show the image of their home city burning and the castle crumbling to the ground, the sky stained a vivid red._

* * *

He waited for a moment, but when Sam made no attempt to take back what he said, he then spun on his heel and disappeared, leaving a lingering smell of freshly cut grass. Sam trembled for a moment, then also turned on his heel and stormed away, unknowing that both a pair of red optics and a pair of red eyes were watching him.

* * *

"You alright?"  
Sam looked up, distracted. A curly haired teen was looking down at him, curious to why the teen hadn't moved from his spot by the fountain in the park. He forced a smile back at her, nodding quickly.  
"Yeah, fine, thanks."  
If she noticed how distracted he was, she ignored it as she twirled a lock of her hair.  
"I haven't seen you around before, how long have you lived in Tranquillity?"  
'_52 years_', the faerie wanted to reply, but held his tongue with some difficultly. While a faerie could not flat-out lie, they could twist the truth or simply not answer at all, so the teen gave a barely-there shrug in response.  
"A while."  
"You go to school?"  
"Home-schooled." again, technically he didn't lie, as he was taught at home.  
"Cool." The girl sat down beside him and, in a manner that may seemed 'becoming' to some, started to trace what she believed to be the twisting lines of a tribal tattoo that curled up his bare forearms. A tattoo, however, it was not. It was a birth mark, a mark that every heir carried, naming them of royal blood. For someone to touch it was a strict taboo, as only the heir's bonded was _ever_ allowed. Sam immediately tensed, and so did the two teens making their way over to him.  
Miles, one of his best friends and his unofficial 'Bodyguard' took a furious step forward, only to be stopped by Mikaela's gentle hand. She moved forward instead, manipulating her glamour so she appeared blonde and bubbly. She threw her arms around Sam cheerfully, being careful not to touch the tattoos.

"There you are, baby! You okay, honey?"

Sam, immediately catching on, grinned and nodded. "Yeah, babe. Just thinking."

The other teen snatched her hand away like it had been burned, stuttered some sort of embarrassed excuse and fled. Sam relaxed in Mikaela's arms, drooping slightly.

"Thanks."

The girl nodded turning around so she was kneeling in front of him. "What's really wrong, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged, shaking his head. "Father. Ever since the Uprising, he had become completely paranoid about other paranormals. I do not even recognize him anymore. He and mother used to have such amazing plans of uniting the Other World's children, and now they lay to waste."

Mikaela smoothed a thumb over his cheek. "He is still grieving. Over time, it will heal and he will see that your mother would not have wanted revenge in her name."

The prince snorted slightly. "Time? A year to us is twenty-and-five to a human. We outlive the others by lifetimes. By the time he realizes, it may be too late."

Mikaela had no response to that. They were both saved by Miles dropping down beside them. He nodded over to the blonde teen who was circling the lake as Sam and his father had, hands in his pockets.

"Haven't seen Bee around lately."

The other two rolled their eyes. They had accidently ran into the other blonde teen (literally, Miles had ran smack into him) a few weeks after Mikaela's 'prophesy'. When they realised he could see through their glamours, they had taken him in under their wings, so to speak. All three knew if the other faeries found out that he could see through them, he would be taken in for questioning and possible silencing. So they hid him from them, meeting up almost every day and in the space of time, Miles found himself falling for the shy blonde. To say Miles was a bit of a player was an understatement. He wasn't so much the 'mate-for-life' as he was the 'wham-bam-thank-you-man'. But something was different about the other blonde. Something about him called to the faeire.

He grinned at them, his usual glamour of 'Surfer Guy', (with long sandy blonde hair, ocean blue eyes and a gleaming smile), firmly in place. "Think I might go say hi, alright with you?"

This time, Sam rolled his eyes. The two had dated for a few decades and, needless to say, soon found they were definitely better off as friends. They were each other's only serious relationship, and so each felt like they had to check with the other that they were okay with them 'hooking up'. This, however, was more. Miles didn't want a quick fling, he wanted the whole thing, the whole 'holding-hands' and 'one-and-only' thing. Unknown and lucky for him, Bee was also finding himself in a similar position.

"Yes, go!" Sam made a soft 'shooing' motion towards the other blonde. His Warrior grinned and stood up, making his way over to their friend. Sam and Mikaela watched from a distance with detached amusement. "Ten bucks says Bee jumps him"

Sam smirked back. "Deal."

Miles approached the blonde from behind, head tilted slightly. He reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey,Bee, haven't seen-"

He froze.

Didn't speak.

Didn't move.

Didn't breathe.

Because what was easily the most beautiful guy he had ever seen turned around to stare at him. The phrase 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' suddenly ran through his head as he stared at the messy-haired blonde. His full red lips had parted to reveal a bright, sunny smile. His impossibly blue eyes were framed by think, golden lashes that seemed to glitter in the sun. His creamy pale skin had a few scars, but they were practically unnoticeable due the swirling tattoos that looked like glyphs that danced across his face. He was the picture of innocence and light, and Miles couldn't look away.

Everything just sort of drifted away, like he was floating away from the earth itself. Except something was grounding him. An invisible cord was the only thing that stopped him from drifting away, and it was tied to the teen in front of him.

The story he thought was myth. His one and only. His destined. His mate.

His mate, whose eyes suddenly went impossibly wide as he stared behind Miles. The other blonde reluctantly dragged his eyes away to try and see what his mate (_impossible. He couldn't have a mate, could he?_) was looking at. But all he could see was his wings, which wouldn't surprise him. There was nothing else there .

Right?

"Miles-" _'Holy crap' _Miles started, _'I fricking love his accent. So bloody English. That's it, I'm dead. Only explanation'_, "You need to run_."_

Oh. Shit.

* * *

"Anything?" Isabella shook her head, her curly black hair twirled up in a bun. "Nothing, My Lord. Nothing since that spike a few months ago. It seems to like your son, however. Energy readings grow when he is in the room, though why we still do not know. Old writing's say that It reacted the same way with your grandfather, your great-great-grandfather, your great- great- great- great-grandfather and others before him. It seems to skip a generation. "

Ronald looked up at the giant alien artefact, gold eyes far away. "Yes. Keep taking readings and notify me on any changes."

"Of course."

He took a few steps forward, pressing his palm against the cool metal. "What are you? What could you possibly be?"

He glanced back through the other doors, where a tall, hulking monster made of metal stood. It seemed to glare at him, even though it was frozen in ice several feet thick. Directly below it, what appeared to be a middle-aged, well built man, floated in a sort of large test-tube. A stasis pod. Shiny grey hair drifted eerily across a pale face, which was covered in scars and strange, alien glyphs. He was dressed only in a pair of black trousers, so the smooth, silver metal circler disk in the middle of his chest was plain to see.

"And why is he so intent on getting to you?"

As if he had heard him, the man's eyes shot open. Vivid red irises shone back at him, hate and fury almost strong enough to melt the glass pouring from them. The man's mouth opened and several large bubbles issued from it, lips forming words that could only be curses.

Ronald glanced back up at the man's other half, and unwillingly remembered the prophesy his son had reported to him less than three moons previous.

"_Angels and Demons, made of flesh and metal...They are coming, and they will either save our world, or burn it and dance among the ashes."_

* * *

'_I am going to __**kill **__Miles. Dead, stone dead. Slowly and painfully.'_

Sam skidded around the corner, pulling Mikaela upright before she fell. Everything had been going so well. Miles went to chat up Bee. Miles discovers his mate (_never __**ever **__seen that one coming_). Turns out his mate that can see through glamours (_how in the name of Gaia can he do that?) _is suddenly freaked out by something and sprints away. The three teens follow him, only to find that the Bee didn't run for nothing. No, that was due to the _huge freaking alien robot_ that was trying to squish the blonde.

All three of them had tried to use magiks on the robot (_technically, they weren't __**ever**__ meant to do that in front of a human, but Sam was sure he could plea it as a life-or-death situation),_ only to find that they _didn't freaking work!_

So now, Sam had to try and keep ahead of a giant alien robot that was using bullets (_Which in no-way was fair),_ keep Miles calm (_As his possible-mate had disappeared) _and try and lead the damn thing away from the human populace, as well as trying not to freak out over where one of his best friend had disappeared too.

Eventually, the three teens lost sight of the robot as they skidded into a junkyard. They bent over, clutching their ribs and sucking in huge gasps of air.

"What...What. The. _Frick_ was _that?!" _ Mikaela gasped, shaking her head. Sam shook his own, panting harshly. "I have no fricking clue...some sort of robot? Holy frick man, what the actual?"

Miles was glancing around quickly, panic clear on his face. "Where is he?! Where did he go?! What if he's hurt?!"

Sam grabbed his shoulders tightly, preventing him from running off alone. "Look bro, we'll go find him, okay? We'll call the others and...oh _frick"_

Mikaela and Miles turned to see where Sam was staring. Making their way towards them was a man, late twenties at most. Black spiky hair fell into blood red irises and, like Bee, his face was covered in scars and strange glyphs. And right behind him, walking at the exact same pace, was the huge robot. Together, both of them smiled.

"Oh, little squishies have nowhere to run?"

The man and robot spoke together, stepping even closer. Automatically, Sam put himself in front of the other two.

"Who are you? What are your kind? Answer me!"

They both smirked, then stopped dead as they scanned him. Red eyes and optics widened and brightened appropriately. "The Allspark. You _reek_ of it."

Sam blinked. "What?"

"Where is it?!" They both lunged forward, only to freeze once more at a sudden, soft English command.

"Leave them, Barricade."

The three spun around, mouths falling open at the sight of Bee and the bright-yellow robot standing behind him. Unlike with 'Barricade', only the human part of the duo spoke this time.

"Are you going to make me, little Bumblebee?"

Sam had to resist the urge to smack Miles across the head when he soundlessly mouthed 'Bumblebee'.

"Yes. Sam, Miles, Mikaela, you need to _move!"_

As he said it, he and the robot lunged forward. The two robots collided with each other as the two males did, both of them fighting in sync. Sam dragged both of the other faeries back, pulling them down the hill slightly. This was way out of their league. Suddenly, Mikaela gave a soft cry.

"Angels and Demons. Sam, _Angels_ and _Demons!_"

_Angels and Demons, made of flesh and metal_

Half man. Half robot. Half flesh. Half metal. Their sweet, innocent Bumblebee was an alien that was the equivalent to either an Angel or a Demon.

Holy _frick_

* * *

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